


A Conflict of Interests

by vials



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, sometimes James's job asks a lot of him, this whole situation hits every one of James's sore spots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vials/pseuds/vials
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cyberattack on MI6 leaves all traces pointing right towards the last person anyone would expect -- Q. James is sent out to investigate, and while he hopes more than anything that there’s been some kind of mistake, he won’t let it stop him from doing his job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Conflict of Interests

**Author's Note:**

> Another one being brought over from my Tumblr (v1als)!

Nothing added up.

Q’s abrupt resignation had been shocking enough, but the fact that the man had then dropped completely off the radar was even more unusual. James had been keeping an ear to the ground, trying to catch sight of any sign of him, but there had been nothing. It had been bad timing, too – only five days after Q’s abrupt departure, MI6 found itself in the middle of a cyberattack. Q’s skill would have been appreciated; the hackers were good, and it took all of Q-branch’s system security experts to even keep them at bay, leaving them no time to force them out.

And then M called James into his office to tell him that whoever was behind the attacks was incredibly intimate with MI6’s systems, that they knew things only an insider would know, and that a couple of the data packets had linked to Q’s computer, and well. That changed everything.

*

Surprisingly, it didn’t take them long to find him. Two days, which James thought was suspicious. He didn’t put too much thought into it – at the time, he was too busy with the anger. It was all too unfair, that Q would leave them (leave _him_ ) behind, and then pull something like this. James sat in M’s office, stony-faced, listening to the quickest of briefings, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

“Unfortunately that’s all the information we have at the moment,” M told him. “This whole thing is moving very quickly but we’re worried if we don’t act soon, he’ll be able to get past the rest of the security levels and then he has free access to the whole damn thing. There’s really no time to waste.”

“Of course not,” James said stiffly.

“It goes without saying that our system’s integrity is of the upmost importance here,” M said, his voice taking on that certain weight that it always did when James knew the man was about to tell him something he didn’t want to hear. “I expect you to take all necessary measures to insure it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Up to and including terminating the target.”

A pause. James’s fingers stilled against his thigh.

“Yes, sir.”

*

Q hadn’t gone far.

The flat he was apparently holed up in was a beautiful second floor property in an expensive part of London; stalking around the outside, James thought it looked like the last place he would expect something like this to be occurring in. When he had been told the location had been traced within the city he had expected to show up at some kind of abandoned warehouse or abandoned _something_ – it would have been more fitting.

It was dark and the street was silent, the occasional car sweeping past on a nearby road more major than the quiet residential streets. James was invisible as he scaled up the property’s wall and climbed over the balcony, landing silently and standing completely still, listening. There was nothing that let him know what to expect. It looked like a completely normal flat. If he listened closely, he could hear the quiet murmur of a television from inside; stepping closer, James saw the door was closed, but not locked. An ashtray was visible on the table next to him, far too many cigarettes in it for just Q.

James slowly readied his weapon and tried not to think about the fact that he knew Q’s smoking habits well enough for this to arouse suspicion. Holding the gun in one hand, he slowly reached out with the other, gripping the door handle.

*

“Shit.”

Q was running out of time. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to delay things for much longer. His skill level was well-known and he had been messing around with Q-branch for days, going easy on them, sending what little information he could in the hope that someone would be able to trace him. He was thankful for the fact that his captors didn’t seem to know all that much about computers – he had managed to let a few of the data packets slip right under their noses – but he knew they were getting suspicious. This shouldn’t have taken him this long. He could have cracked the system in an hour; two if he was meeting resistance. He knew he didn’t have long left.

“Shit,” he said again, hoping he sounded realistically frustrated and not relieved. “They’ve blocked me. I don’t think I can try this again.”

He tensed as someone stepped up behind him, looking at his screen as though they knew what it meant. He heard the tell-tale sound of a gun tapping at the back of his chair.

“You know,” the man said, still tapping the gun. “I really think you’re starting to push your luck.”

Q turned in his seat slightly, fixing a look of equal parts nervousness and offence on his face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think you’re starting to bullshit us. I think you’ve been bullshitting us all along, and you—”

A large hole suddenly appeared in the man’s forehead, splattering Q with blood and worse. Q froze, staring in shock as the man simply crumpled to the ground. For a moment there was nothing, and then Q finally remembered to breathe, his breaths rapid and panicked.

“What the—?” he asked, looking up, but words failed him when he saw the gun pointed right at him, and nothing but anger on James’s face.

*

“Don’t move.”

James practically growled the words. He saw Q swallow, his gaze flicking between James’s face and the gun.

“James –” he began, and James couldn’t stand it.

“Shut up.” He took a step closer, glancing around the room. “How many are there?”

“Two others. They’re not here right now.”

Q’s answer was rushed; James tried to work out if it was nerves or simply a lie.

“When will they be back?”

“I don’t know.”

James looked at him for a moment, scanning his face. Satisfied he was at least telling the truth there, he turned his attention to the laptop.

“And that?”

“James, it’s not doing anything,” Q said quickly. James could see he was beginning to shake. “I’m not – it wasn’t – I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to do it. They made me. I didn’t do anything, I just – I was buying time, I was trying to—”

“ _Shut up_ ,” James spat. He had no idea where the anger was coming from; he could see his grip on the gun was unsteady, his hands trembling.

“James, I wasn’t –”

“That’ll be for the investigation to decide.”

Q stared at him for a moment, his eyes still wide, and James hated how _young_ he looked, how vulnerable, like he might be actually telling the truth and it wasn’t just a case of James’s wishful thinking.

“Look at me,” Q said desperately. “Do you really think this was me? Do you really think I would have just resigned like that? Vanished? They _made_ me, James. They made me write in my resignation. They brought me here.”

James said nothing, still holding the gun firmly pointed at Q.

“ _James_ ,” Q said, and there was something like frustration in his voice now; maybe even anger. “For god’s sake! Do you think if I was going to hack MI6, it would take me _two bloody days_? This is my system! I designed it! Do you think it would take me that long? Do you think I would be _foolish_ enough to let you track me?”

James almost lowered the gun. It was the noise behind him that stopped him; the slightest tread of a shoe, and he spun around, weapon still raised. The shot hit the newcomer square between the eyes; he collapsed to the ground, his own weapon falling loosely out of his hand, and James stepped out into the hall.

*

Q didn’t think he would ever stop shaking. Sitting there in that room, alone with two dead bodies and having no idea if any of what he had said had got through to James… it made for a stressful situation to say the least.

He busied himself with the computer, shutting down all the processes – back at MI6, they would surely know James had found his mark. Literally, if the gunshot from the living room was anything to go by. There were quick footsteps and Q moved his hands away from the keyboard, turning the seat around to face the door just as James appeared.

“James –”

“I know something was fishy,” James said, looking down at the body in the doorway in disdain as he stepped over it. “I didn’t think you’d retire like that. I always said you’d die before you retired.”

“Well, turned out I almost had to test that theory,” Q said weakly.

“I thought it was odd how we found you, too. And how long it took you. The whole thing didn’t sit right. I don’t even think M believed it himself.”

“While I appreciate the faith you all have in me, I do have to wonder what the whole…” Q broke off, gesturing vaguely around the room. “Pointing a gun at my face with venomous hatred thing was about.”

James looked at him for a moment, wearing an expression that Q couldn’t quite read. If he didn’t know better, he thought James maybe looked _sad_.

“You think you know people,” James said, glancing from Q to the laptop screen. “But then you find out that you don’t. It sticks with you.”

“Oh,” Q said, because there wasn’t much to say to that.

“For what it’s worth,” James added. “I’m glad it wasn’t the case with you.”

Q didn’t know what to say to that, either.

*

He didn’t get his job back for another two months. There were endless debriefs and enquiries to endure, every stone turned over to make sure he was telling the truth, that it wasn’t just a cover story, that he hadn’t actually decided to go rogue. It was a relief when everything was cleared – despite the fact that Q knew he was telling the truth, there was still the question of convincing everyone else.

For the most part, there was no tension down in Q-branch. Apparently everyone had had the same attitude – that it wouldn’t have taken him two days to hack his own system – so Q enjoyed not having to worry about being regarded as some kind of traitor. He quickly got back into the swing of things, wondering how he had even _pretended_ to have resigned, and things progressed smoothly until the day James showed up unannounced.

“Busy?” he asked, and Q glanced around before shrugging.

“Not as busy as I could be,” he said.

“Good,” James said. “That means you’ll be done at a normal time tonight.”

“Well, yes,” Q said, frowning. “But I hardly see why that’s relevant—”

“I have reservations,” James said, and Q broke off, spluttering. “A very nice place, eight thirty. I trust you can make it?”

Q had to pause for a moment, trying to remember how to speak. “Well, I – _yes_ , but – I suppose I’m wondering why?”

“Well, I did pull a gun on you and make some rather awful assumptions,” James said. “I thought I would make it up to you.”

He was smiling ever so slightly now, and Q managed to return it, still fighting through the disbelief.

“007,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to remember how to act like a normal human being. “I do believe this is your most sincere apology yet.”

“Don’t waste the opportunity,” James said, winking, and turned for the door.


End file.
